Halo
by Hermiola
Summary: Spock's awake in the middle of the night with an absurd request.


_**Halo.**_

_It's like I've been awakened_

_Every rule I had you breakin'_

_It's the risk that I'm takin'_

_I ain't never gonna shut you out_

**"Halo" - Beyoncé**

"What are you thinking about?"

Uhura's voice sounded slow and placid; a hot whisper on Spock's chest. She leaned her head back on his shoulder, looking up to look at his face; an arm stretched on his stomach - it was barely moving up and down under the imperceptible rhythm of the Vulcan's breath.

Spock kept his eyes closed: he looked like he was sleeping, but Uhura knew he had been awake for several hours. Still and motionless, he would have kept his hands entwined on his chest if she hadn't been there messing up the rigidi posistions he used to fall asleep into. With an arm, he was surrounding her shoulders, the other randomly laid down on his own stomach brushing her fingers.

He stayed silent for a long moment, even if he was more than aware of the woman's eyes gazing upon him. The sweet scent of her long black hair, managed to calm him down more than anything else: he liked to fall asleep in a place that smelt so much like her.

Uhura was closely glancing at the placid composure of his face, without repeating her question. She knew there was no need to do so.

"I think...," he opened his eyes staring at the ceiling for a very long moment before tilting his head down to her, "that a haircut would be more than opportune."

The woman, who was ready to comfort him whatever the problem could have been, arched an eyebrow in an expression that, usually, was much more typical of him than her: that wasn't really what she was expecting to hear.

"A haircut," Uhura repeated, just to be sure she had understood correctly.

"Exactly," he confirmed nodding.

Nyota raised immediately, a sudden doubt lighting up her eyes. "Whose hair are you talking about?" She confusedly asked. The idea of Spock waking up in the middle of the night advising her to cut her hair was simply ridiculous.

Spock frowned, slightly surprised by her lack of understanding.

"I was referring to mine," he specified, "I realize just now the ambiguity of my previous assertion," he went on, apologizing.

Uhura leaned back her cheek on the Vulcan's shoulder - his skin hot against her own was one of the many reasons she loved to sleep with Spock.

"You want to cut your hair," she continued.

"When I was just a boy," he explained, "my mother used to take care of it," he confessed. "Regularly, at the end of each month."

Uhura smiled, settling against her superior's side. It didn't happen often; Spock talking about Vulcan, his childhood, his family, but the references had slowly increased in number during the days following his natal planet's destruction, as if he was desperately trying to indelibly rub in his memory all those neverending details his memories were offering.

"I can't imagine you in the middle of a haircut," she admitted, staring at him with an amused look.

Spock curled his lips in a critical expression. For as much as he knew about Humans, he couldn't actually tell he was able to completely understand their behaviours yet, or what exactly unleashed their irony.

"I don't understand," he said, looking at her with a confused expression.

Uhura rised a little bit, resting on her elbow to lean her face against her hand.

"It's something I never watched you doing," she explained, "that's all."

Spock nodded only once. "I think I can simply amend this condition, then."

He gently released himself from the woman's embrace, putting on the black pants he used during the night, before standing up. He silently asked her permission to go into the bathroom of her apartament and he came back with a towel and a pair of scissors.

Uhura was sitting on the bed surrounded by a bunch of sheets - untidy on her side, perfectly intact and absolutely untouched on Spock's (a detail that, despite the love she felt for him, she kept finding quite disturbing).

"You want me to cut your hair?" She weakly asked, starting to feel a weird sensation in the pit of her stomach at the sight of the Commander's actions.

He was asking her to do something that only her mother before her had done. The thought made her feel a bit anxious.

Spock didn't move from the center of the room. He was looking at her with a curious expression. "Your heart rate has increased by 4.78%, is there something worrying you?" He asked her without losing his composure.

Uhura parted her lips, as if she needed to say something, but she found herself widely smiling at him, instead. "Nothing," she assured.

"And you know what?" She continued, putting on her nightgown and getting off the bed to join him, "I would be more than happy to cut your hair," she finally conceded, taking the scissors from his hands and inviting him to take a seat in the chair resting against the farthest wall.

It seemed like it was something actually important to him, for this reason Uhura tried at any cost to ignore the comic side of the entire situation, paying more attention to celebratory and solemn one. They were honouring a tradition.

As soon as Spock had sat down in the middle of the room, the woman set the towel on his shoulders, leaning down on him to lay a light kiss on his neck. The Vulcan wasn't surprised, but he didn't spare her an illegible look.

"So," Nyota said, standing behind the officer, "how much?"

"5.16 millemetres."

"Sorry?"

Spock turned around again to look at her, "5.16 millimetres."

He wanted her to shorten his hair of 5.16 millimetres?

"Your mom was able to cut it so accurately?" She found herself asking him, suddenly intimidated and amused at the same time.

"No, on the contrary, she never managed to follow my detailed instructions on the matter," Spock said, an impercettible trace of melancholy in his voice - Uhura didn't fail to catch it. "For this reason, you don't need to worry if you end up doing the same thing. It's typically Human."

Uhura gently hit him on his bare shoulder. "Stop teasing me," she warned him.

The corners of the Vulcan's lips looked like they were going to turn upwards for the smallest of the smiles, but those were changes that only a regular and attentive observer would have been able to notice.

"Once you finished, we can go back to our activities," the Commander said.

"_Our _activities?" She curiously asked, starting to trim the hair on Spock's nape - at least his haircut wasn't much difficult to fix.

"Is there a specific way you want me to talk about -"

"No!" Uhura sharply interrupted him, bursting out laughing, "no, don't say it, please," she pleaded him, amused.

She leaned down again, kissing him right under his chin, then on his cheek. Spock closed his eyes right when Uhura slightly moved around the chair to finally face him. She forced him to open his legs, so that she could be able to approach him more.

Invisible black locks were softly falling on the red towel which had the Starfleet logo on it.

She fixed his bangs, before conceding him another kiss. Spock bent back his head, waiting for a longer contact, but Uhura betrayed him.

The woman earned herself a reproaching look that made her smile, but she didn't satisfy his silent request until she was done.

"That's it," she declared after a couple of minutes during which no one of them had spoken at all.

"I thank you," Spock said. He was going to clean the floor and the towel, but Uhura stopped him, gently grabbing his wrist.

"And... _our_ activities?" She reminded him.

While turning back to face her, Spock caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the mirror hanging on the well. "A flawless work, Miss Uhura," he praised her, eluding somehow the woman's question.

"Commander?"

"Lieutenant?"

"I think you're forgetting some previously mentioned onerous tasks," she alluded in a deliberately formal and teasing tone.

"Is that so?"

The woman lifted her arms to the ceiling, giving him an exasperate look. "You really are stubborn, Spock!" She exclaimed grabbing him and finally drawing him close against her for a very long kiss.

Something was telling her that the upcoming activities were going to be anything but unpleasant.


End file.
